


just the two of us

by last



Category: BTOB
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last/pseuds/last
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when minjoo moves out for the south, somebody new moves in with ilhoon. (it turns out that home is not always a place, but could be a person named im hyunsik.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	just the two of us

**Author's Note:**

> (a.k.a. flatmates au)
> 
> HELLO, long time no see, and happy 2016! i’ve changed my username, but it’s still me, ao3 user formerly known as complete. i’ve also deleted most of my entries on here because, uh, they sucked a bit. (i want to write a better angel!ilhoon fic though. the old story ended up too perfect in a bad way. i also ended up liking the post-disbandment one a lot less than i used to, but i want to write another that’s eunkwang-centric? how cruel.) i was admittedly pretty rusty before september, so i hope nobody will miss those fics too much. sorry, a little bit of reflection for the new year.
> 
> anyway, this is a gratuitous flatmates au. i’m a sucker for domesticity. i’ll put it out there in advance that this doesn’t have much of a plot since it’s just a slice of life kind of thing, relationship progression (again), fluff with a side order of some not-so-sfw scenes? (obviously nothing as heavy as last time, though.) i just wanted to do something like this at least once – my ultimate hyunsik-and-ilhoon-as-a-cohabiting-couple romance fic? i love... love.
> 
> btw, how i imagine the apartment is the living room, dining room and kitchen actually all being part of one main room (open plan). i’d draw the layout, but you can imagine it however you like. enjoy!

“I’m moving to Busan,” is the first thing Minjoo says when Ilhoon’s barely through the front door, let alone has the chance to reply. “I’ve been offered a new job,” is the next.

Ilhoon removes the key from the lock and pulls off his shoes using only his feet before responding, “You’ve already decided?”

“Mhm,” Minjoo nods from the couch. She lowers the volume of the television so the two of them can hear each other better. “Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you.”

“What do you mean,” Ilhoon replies as he comes closer.

“Well, for starters, you don’t know how to do laundry,” she supposes, tilts her head a bit to think. “Then there’s rent, and I could go on, but what I’m trying to say is that you probably need somebody to keep an eye on you.”

He crosses his arms at her, “I’m an adult.”

“If I don’t cook, you don’t bother to get yourself anything to eat except ice cream.”

“Okay,” Ilhoon gives in before they’ve even started. Trust him, there’s never any point in arguing with her. “Okay, that’s true, but the only person I can think of is Mom and I’m pretty sure she’s fine where she is.”

“We’ll find you a flatmate,” Minjoo shrugs. “No problem.”

“Good luck with that,” Ilhoon snorts, gives her a small wave as he heads for his room, although this is actually about him and he should care at least a little.

 

 

 

 

There’s a light knock on Ilhoon’s door and he looks up to find Minjoo sticking her head through the gap she’s pushed open.

“I put a listing online for you, Ilhoon,” she smiles. “Come take a look.”

They go back to the living room. Minjoo’s laptop is on the coffee table, a glass of orange juice next to it, and there’s a webpage with photos of the apartment displayed on the monitor. The description she’s written is alright, he supposes, it’s as close to the truth as it can be with a tiny exaggeration here and there, but Ilhoon isn’t convinced once he reaches the requirements they’re after.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be that specific,” he turns to her. “Someone who can cook? Are we looking for a chef now?”

“To be frank, you need one.”

“I _can_ cook. I just don’t _like_ to.”

“Exactly,” Minjoo deadpans. “Give it a few days. I’m sure someone will contact us.”

“If you say so,” Ilhoon returns to his room as quickly as he had left it.

 

 

 

 

It’s the weekend when the phone finally rings. Minjoo’s busy in the shower – she doesn’t even hear it – and Ilhoon drags himself from the couch to wherever they left the phone in the kitchen so he can deal with it. He picks up, nervous for some reason.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end answers the same thing back, and continues, “Sorry, is this the right number? I’m calling about an apartment.”

Ilhoon tells them not to worry, it is.

“Oh, good. I’m interested in viewing it, if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure,” he looks over to the bathroom door, hoping Minjoo will come out already, because he isn’t entirely certain about this whole process and he’d assumed she’d take care of it all. “Um, when are you available?”

“All weekend? Any time today is okay, actually.”

“Maybe... maybe you could come at two?” Ilhoon suggests.

“That’d be fine,” there’s a gentle laugh to fill what would be a pause. “I’m Hyunsik, by the way.”

“Ah—right, I’m Ilhoon.”

“Then I’ll see you shortly, Ilhoon,” he replies before hanging up.

Minjoo isn’t done for another few minutes after the call, and the second Ilhoon tells her they’re having a guest over she starts to make the place a lot more presentable than it was, towel still on her head and bathrobe tied at her waist. Even she doubts that they’ll receive many other calls, so they’ve got to create the best impression while they can.

 

 

 

 

The buzz from the main entrance downstairs comes a little after two. They let Hyunsik in and wait for a knock at the front door.

They open it to a young man, casually-dressed, with dark brown hair and a kind smile on his face. To be honest, he’s handsome, and Ilhoon didn’t expect this much. They didn’t put up an online dating profile after all, otherwise he might have contacted Hyunsik first. He’s more great-looking than plain old _good_ , and he’s got the manners to hold out his hand to greet them.

Ilhoon probably wouldn’t mind him living here, if he decides he’d like to.

“Hi, I’m Hyunsik,” he smiles brighter.

Ilhoon shakes his hand, confirms his own name, and afterwards Minjoo introduces herself too.

“So, what about this place sparked your interest?” she asks to make polite conversation, because she knows Ilhoon’s always shyer, and he’s glad.

“I’ve been looking for somewhere closer to work,” Hyunsik nods to himself. “The rent doesn’t seem too bad either.”

“Oh, yes, Ilhoon works part-time at a bakery so he’ll help out,” Minjoo widens her eyes at Ilhoon, her mouth curling at the corners. “Won’t you?”

He stares back, “Yeah? I always do, don’t I?”

They take Hyunsik around the place, show him the kitchen and where they keep everything from the cutlery to the plates, the bathroom and their heart-patterned shower mat. He compliments the paintings hanging on the walls – some landscapes Ilhoon chose to spruce things up when he first moved in with Minjoo – and he takes Hyunsik’s comments personally whether he means them or not. At least he knows he has taste.

“Well, I’m quite convinced,” Hyunsik says once the tour is over. “You wouldn’t mind having me around, would you?”

Ilhoon shakes his head in response, but Minjoo is the one who replies to him, “Of course he wouldn’t.”

She could be right, but there’s time to find out yet.

 

 

 

 

Towards the end of the month, Minjoo leaves on a weekday, and Hyunsik moves in his belongings at the weekend. While it’s odd not to have Minjoo around anymore, it’s odder yet that she can’t jump into the conversation when there’s a pause, when Ilhoon trips on his words while trying to figure them out at the same time. There’s a wish at the back of his mind asking God to stop Hyunsik from looking at him as they talk, although it’s only polite, because he swears his face must be flushed for nothing right now.

“Sorry, is that box a bit heavy?” Hyunsik asks when he turns to check on Ilhoon following behind him and notices, as much as he had hoped he wouldn’t.

“No—no, it’s fine,” he insists.

“Okay,” Hyunsik flashes him a quick smile before continuing onwards. “Thank you, by the way.”

That’s at least the fifth time he’s said that since he got here.

He places the box he was carrying on the ground, Ilhoon kind of drops the weight of his with a _thud_ and he prays nothing has broke, then Hyunsik announces, “And we’re done.”

Ilhoon gets out of his way and leaves him to it after that. He turns on a drama, but eventually mutes it when he thinks he hears singing from what was Minjoo’s room. It sounds like a low hum at first, a simple melody, until it becomes words and a familiar tune, a song about being _so_ in love and sentimental things that Ilhoon is ashamed to know too.

He thought he hated this song, but now he isn’t so certain.

Hyunsik makes it sound better than he had remembered as well. Ilhoon supposes that’s usually a plus, unless it turns into an issue. And by that, he means becoming infatuated for some strange reason.

 

 

 

 

It isn’t until evening that Hyunsik’s done and he re-emerges, satisfied at last. Ilhoon’s in the kitchen, reading the back of an instant ramen packet as the water boils, and he doesn’t even realise Hyunsik’s walked over until he says, “Hey.”

He gives him a nod rather than a hello, a startled one at that, and tries not to look at him too much as he comes closer, explores a little while Ilhoon’s focusing elsewhere. It feels like he’s watching him though, not remembering where everything Minjoo had showed him is.

“Um—are you hungry?” Ilhoon eventually turns to find him. “If you want, I could make more,” he shakes the packet.

Hyunsik takes a step forwards, “Oh, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” Ilhoon shakes his head, and he really doesn’t.

He grabs another pack from one of the cupboards near Hyunsik, brushes past him by an honest accident on the way back, and acts as if it’s nothing while he grows both warmer, redder in the face. He tells Hyunsik it’s okay to stick around when he asks if it is when, in reality, he’s trying his very hardest to maintain whatever cool is left the whole time.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Hyunsik starts to hum again, and ordinarily that’s annoying, a distraction, but Ilhoon doesn’t ask him to stop. If anything, it’s the only thing calming him at the moment, and for that he’s somewhat thankful. He just prays that the least he can do is not mess up something so simple on the first day.

 

 

 

 

“I know it’s not much, but I hope it’s not too bad,” Ilhoon frowns as he sits down across the table from Hyunsik, his face in clear view and Ilhoon knows his own is most likely the same for him.

He has a gentle look to him, a gentle voice too, now that Ilhoon thinks about it, like there’s nothing to really be afraid of so he’s uncertain as to why he is. That’s what Ilhoon gathers in the seconds he even dares to make eye contact with him or steal a short glance when he’s not looking, anyway.

“You’re very quiet,” Hyunsik says during a lull in the conversation. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’m sorry—”

“Oh—no, you’re not. Don’t worry about it, really,” Ilhoon insists, and it’s not that he’s lying. He’s shy, that’s it, and who wouldn’t be while having a one-to-one dinner with somebody new.

Ilhoon wants to talk to Hyunsik though, get to know him, so that he won’t be this hesitant anymore.

“Could I ask,” he starts, swirling his noodles and soup with the ends of his chopsticks. “How old are you?”

“Hm?” Hyunsik looks up from his bowl. He smiles as he finishes chewing, as if he was waiting to be asked. “I’m twenty-three. How about you?”

“Twenty.”

Hyunsik tells him he’s so young, and Ilhoon insists he’s old and has been ever since he lost the ‘-teen’ from his age. He discovers that Hyunsik prefers spring and thrillers, while he likes autumn and documentaries the most. Hyunsik spends some of his free time exercising and working out for _fun_ , and Ilhoon would never dream of it in this lifetime. Somehow it’s a pleasant conversation, easy-going and not at all boring, as mundane as it seems. That’s the strangest part about it, actually.

Hyunsik says he works at the office not too far from the university, and offers Ilhoon a ride if they happen to head out or finish at the same time, depending on the day. He accepts it, of course. Anything to avoid riding buses that turn up whenever they feel like it.

Maybe anything to give him an excuse to be with Hyunsik too.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon rolls over on his bed, onto his stomach, as Minjoo’s voice comes through the phone, “How was it? All settled in?”

It’s so dark outside now and Hyunsik showering in the bathroom, right by the wall separating it from Ilhoon’s room, suddenly provided an ideal time to make a call. Too bad that all he can actually think about is how, after he had finished showering himself, Hyunsik was already halfway undressed when they passed each other through the doorway. He’s had the body of a god hidden there and Ilhoon’s struggling to wrap his brain around it.

He swears he’ll stop thinking about it soon.

“Mm,” he snaps back to reality and leaves the images in his mind alone. They’re ordinary – he’s just so used to living with Minjoo it’s a shock to see anyone other than himself like that – nothing more, nothing less. “I guess so. I cooked dinner for us too.”

“No kidding? You only ever did that on my birthday,” she replies, full of surprise.

“Yeah, well, I'd already started cooking for myself and he walked over, so,” he brushes it off before she gets the wrong idea.

“Okay, then tell me your thoughts on him. You know, after one day. Do you want to kick him out yet?”

“No, he’s... he’s really nice?” Ilhoon pauses for a second to decide on what else to say. “And still very polite. I mean, there isn’t much to dislike, if I’m being honest with you.”

“So you like him,” Minjoo concludes.

“If you’re trying to imply—”

“I’m not implying anything,” she laughs to herself. “I was going to say I’m relieved that you don’t hate him, so perhaps it’s you who’s making assumptions here, my dear baby brother.”

Ilhoon rolls his eyes, but he realises he’s got to be more careful with the words he actually allows to leave his mouth from now on. At least it’s only Minjoo, but when the singing from the bathroom disappears and the water stops running, Ilhoon restrains himself from saying anything further about Hyunsik in case he’s the type to listen in. (He doubts it though.)

“I’ll call you again sometime,” Minjoo assures him. “Take care, okay?”

Ilhoon tells her, “Sure,” of course, but the second she hangs up he’s nervous to leave his room if it means spending a night in Hyunsik’s company when he still doesn’t know a whole lot about him yet and polite conversations can only go so far. The sooner they pass this stage the better, for certain.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon dots questions around during the first weeks together, just to make it all slightly less obvious. He asks Hyunsik about his favourite musicians while they’re in his car together, before he drops Ilhoon off outside of campus. He wonders whether Hyunsik likes red apples or green, if he’s a dog or cat person, who he’s close to when they’re sitting in the living room, television on, but neither of them are watching it.

“Are you trying to ask if I’m single?” Hyunsik laughs to himself, quietly, but it doesn’t seem as if he’s bothered.

“No,” Ilhoon denies it anyway. He lowers his eyes to the ground.

“Well, I am, in case you were wondering,” Hyunsik continues and it sounds like he’s smiling, if Ilhoon’s not mistaken.

“What a coincidence,” he snorts, hides that he’s glad for some reason, like it means something to him when it doesn’t, does it?

At least that’s now out of the way.

Hyunsik shifts along the couch and moves closer. He rests his elbow against the side and his head in his hand.

“So, what do you look for in a person?” he asks and he’s serious about it.

Ilhoon has to think for a moment, because he doesn’t look for anything or anyone most of the time, “The usual? Good looks, a sense of humour, similar interests, I guess.”

“I have all of those,” Hyunsik smirks, his teeth then showing, and he’s probably kidding. It’s not a big deal.

“Are you trying to say,” Ilhoon starts to joke back, although a tiny part of him hopes there’s something to this. “That you’re my type?”

Hyunsik shrugs at him, “Am I?”

It warrants a cushion tossed at him as a reply, but Ilhoon is laughing to let him know it’s not that he isn’t. If Ilhoon had a specific type, he could be it if he’d even admit it to himself.

He’s picky, you know, and it’s still early days.

 

 

 

 

When there’s nothing to watch on television, Ilhoon sits in his room and reads. He’s still yet to reach the end of the copy of _Le Papillon des étoiles_ that Minjoo gave him last Christmas because he only picks it up occasionally. And he’s only reading it again now to get away from Hyunsik for a short while – being around somebody he finds good-looking is hardly a breeze, especially when he’s so sweet too.

That was his plan, anyway, but it never goes through that perfectly.

Hyunsik always knocks before entering – it’s lucky though, if not just the expected manners, it gives Ilhoon a chance to prepare himself. (That’s close the book, push up his glasses and sit up in a slightly less unattractive way, in this case.)

“I’m going to the convenience store,” Hyunsik says from the doorway. “Do you need anything?”

Ilhoon replies after considering asking for strawberry cheesecake ice cream, until he remembers they already have some in the freezer, “No, thank you.”

“Okay,” Hyunsik comes closer rather than leaves. He sits on the end of the bed. “You’ve had your nose in that book for days. It must be interesting.”

“Yeah—I mean, I’m determined to finish it. I started it some time ago.”

“Ah, good luck,” he wishes Ilhoon, getting up again. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asks first, and Ilhoon shakes his head. “Alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Once he turns around, Ilhoon sort of wonders to himself whether he should have asked to tag along, even if he has no reason to. Maybe Hyunsik would’ve bought him something anyway, they could’ve taken a walk together while out, or he could stop daydreaming because it’s becoming pretty silly to overthink these things.

 

 

 

 

Sunday afternoons are for grocery shopping once they’ve actually woken up. They go together so they can keep each other on track – Hyunsik eyes the racks of gummy candy near the checkouts, and Ilhoon would pile up the tubs of ice cream if he could have it his way. (Minjoo tended to leave him at home. Besides, he was always still asleep.)

Hyunsik pushes the cart along the aisles because he’s stronger and can manage the load like it’s nothing, and Ilhoon wanders off ahead to find the things from the list they typed on his phone before leaving home.

He balances a bag of seedless grapes (the only type the two of them have agreed are acceptable), a four-pack of nectarines, and the largest bunch of bananas he could see in his arms.

Hyunsik catches up to him, “What’s next?”

“Pasta sauce, no mushrooms,” Ilhoon checks after dropping the fruit into the cart. “Because they’re the only thing you don’t eat.”

“And you don’t care for them either,” Hyunsik nods to himself. “Oh—look, there’s an offer on soup right now. Should we get some?”

“Just tell me which.”

Hyunsik asks for one chicken, one vegetable, one tomato, and Ilhoon places them in the cart with care so that they don’t crush anything else. Then, after a few more items, they’re finally done.

“I think we did well today,” Hyunsik shuts the door on his side and pushes the key into the ignition. “How about rice tonight, lasagne tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ilhoon prefers it when Hyunsik cooks. He knows what he’s doing, for the most part and, if not, he does a good job at hiding it. He loves Stevie Wonder and plays his songs on his phone while he’s in the kitchen, sings along to himself way more in tune than he needs to be when there’s only two of them listening. By now, Ilhoon probably knows his entire discography off by heart.

While it’s nice when Hyunsik is responsible for dinner, more so, Ilhoon prefers it when they work together, if there’s anything he can do to help. Ilhoon doesn’t mind if Hyunsik asks him to cut some vegetables for him, watch over and stir the contents of a pot heating on the stove, or just pass him bowls when it’s almost time to eat.

Truthfully, he likes it _far_ better when he gives a hand – it’s more rewarding when Hyunsik thanks him, tells him to dig in with the most genuine smile, crinkles forming as his eyes close. There’s a kind of joy that comes from that. It begins in the cavity of Ilhoon’s chest, makes his heart drop in the best way possible, and it spreads so quickly throughout the rest of him that he can’t help but smile back.

He allows himself to, and Hyunsik only shuts his eyes tighter and smiles even wider.

 

 

 

 

On the days when Ilhoon has to be on campus, he asks to get dropped off where he knows everybody can see, and he likes when they ask him who the driver is before classes begin. He waits around until after five even if he finishes for the day at four or half past just so he can have Hyunsik take him home again, because it means they’ll be close for a short while and he’s becoming greedier for that.

Hyunsik questions Ilhoon about his day as his hand rests on his shoulder now, sometimes his lap, and he listens to each word like they’re all important. (They’re not.)

Hyunsik calls him ‘Hoonie’, and Ilhoon calls him ‘hyung’ like he should. Every now and again it’s ‘honey’ when they joke that they’re married, when Hyunsik asks Ilhoon to pick out a tie for him, tells him he looks good when he’s certain he doesn’t.

But if Hyunsik says so it must be true.

He makes sure to stop by if he can when Ilhoon works. He says hi to him and only orders on some days – a warm bun filled with red bean paste most of the time. Although he tries different ones, he always comes back to it again.

“Your uniform is really cute,” Hyunsik says when he picks Ilhoon up.

And he usually hates that, but somehow it’s okay at this exact moment. It’s okay when Hyunsik says it, to be accurate.

“So is _that_ why you keep visiting, hyung?” Ilhoon pulls across his seat belt.

“I just feel like seeing you,” he shrugs like he always does. “Should I stop?”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Ilhoon clarifies. He wasn’t at all.

Hyunsik moves in close, hovers in front of Ilhoon for a moment, a smile on his face, but that’s it. Ilhoon heart beats faster for what seems like nothing, and he’s fine with that because he’s sure it isn’t. There’s a tension building up between them – it’s an exciting one that feels mutual, if it isn’t solely Ilhoon’s imagination.

It seems like an attraction. He’s almost certain about it.

Hyunsik takes the two of them home afterwards, and Ilhoon watches him drive in the dim light. The way his face catches shadows takes his breath away when it shouldn’t, and when he starts to sing he feels like he might actually be in love with him already.

 

 

 

 

“What are you watching tonight?”

Hyunsik’s leaving the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel on his hips, another in his hand. It startles Ilhoon a little, but he blames it on the horror movie that’s beginning. He’s seen him like this before, every evening, anyway (although that’s not to say that he’s always cool about it).

“I don’t really know. I just turned it on.”

“Give me a sec,” Hyunsik hurries to his room. “I’ll watch it too.”

He comes back in a few minutes, fully dressed (thank God, because he hasn’t been lately), and sits himself down a seat away from Ilhoon. He still feels the couch sink with Hyunsik’s weight.

“Did I miss much?” he asks.

“Nope, nothing’s happened yet,” Ilhoon offers him the bag of rice crackers he’s been hoarding until now.

“Thanks,” Hyunsik helps himself to a handful. He bites into one before continuing. “You’ve been watching movies every single night this week.”

“This is how I spend summer,” Ilhoon lifts his feet and rests them on the coffee table, one leg over the other. “As if you haven’t been watching them with me.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Hyunsik laughs and it’s never with ill intention. He turns to the television, to the dark scene in the woods playing right now. “I thought you were afraid of stuff like this, though.”

“I’m not.”

“That isn’t what it seemed like last night,” Hyunsik shuffles nearer and holds his arm out towards Ilhoon. “Be my guest.”

“I’ll be fine, hyung,” he insists. “But thanks for your concern.”

Ten minutes later and Ilhoon’s definitely anything but that. Hyunsik lets him press his face into his t-shirt though, leaves part of it exposed so he can still keep an eye on the movie, and tightens his hold on Hyunsik’s wrist whenever there’s a jump scare, something that almost makes him scream, but instead comes out a high-pitched whine.

By the time it’s over, there’s sweat thinly layered on his neck, a drop rolling down the side of his forehead. He pulls away and tries to get it together.

“You’re kind of hot,” he says before he realises what it sounds like. “I mean _warm_ —that type of hot—obviously.”

“Jung Ilhoon thinks I’m hot?” Hyunsik teases him anyway, like he suspected he would. “I’m flattered.”

Jung Ilhoon actually does, in the non-literal sense, but he doesn’t say it. He figures by the grin across Hyunsik’s face that he can tell on his own, and it’s better this way. This is now a game and they’re both playing to win.

 

 

 

 

From time to time, Minjoo calls to check up on things. She wonders if they’re managing alright, if the electricity is still running, if they’re paying the rent when they should be. She asks Ilhoon how he’s been getting along with Hyunsik since the last time she rang, and he assures her it’s all been smooth sailing from day one.

“You’re not going to sleep with him, are you?” she jokes, a quiet laugh coming through the speaker.

“ _Sis_ ,” Ilhoon pauses to think about it. “There’s no rule against it if I was to, though.”

“So you’re going to.”

“Romance first,” he waves his finger at nobody. “Unless we get drunk. Or he can’t wait. That’s okay too.”

“Well, don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” she says in a way that he can tell she’s amused.

“Oh, trust me, I won’t,” and that’s a promise he’ll definitely keep if it ever happens. It’ll have to be in Paris, he’s decided, or maybe London as a second option – wherever it’s actually possible. The finer details he’ll consider later, once Hyunsik’s agreed.

 

 

 

 

“Is that mine?” Hyunsik asks after locking the front door, when he notices the t-shirt Ilhoon’s wearing.

He pulled it out of the dryer that afternoon while he was looking for one of his own, but decided he liked Hyunsik’s better. It’s larger, the sleeves hang over his elbows, and the hem stops mid-thigh. Once it’s been washed, it doesn’t smell like Hyunsik anymore, but after trying it on Ilhoon didn’t feel like taking it back off again.

“Mhm,” Ilhoon tilts his head, and gives Hyunsik the smallest smirk. “It looks good on me.”

“Well,” he laughs without meaning to, lets Ilhoon know that he agrees without saying it straight away. “I can’t argue with you there,” he sits down beside him – closer than he usually does, but there’s nothing that seems unnatural about it. “What have you been up to today?”

“Not much, really. The usual.”

“Waiting for me to come home then?” Hyunsik places his hand on Ilhoon’s lap, on top of where his shorts cut off, and it makes his heart begin to pound so hard he can hear it. Two can play at this game, as they’re both fully aware.

Ilhoon lifts his leg over the other, Hyunsik’s hand staying put like it’s perfectly happy where it is, “Are you, Im Hyunsik, implying that I, Jung Ilhoon, get so lonely and bored without you, that I just sit here until you finish work?”

“Those are your words, not mine,” Hyunsik smiles wider than he was. “And I’m very touched by them, thank you.”

Ilhoon rolls his eyes because he’s got him – he wins this time, he supposes, although that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll truly give in, “I’ll admit that I miss you a bit, but nothing else.”

“So much that you wear my clothes now,” Hyunsik reaches for the top of Ilhoon’s head and gives his hair a light ruffle. “You really are the cutest.”

With some regret, there’s no doubt in Ilhoon’s mind that Hyunsik’s beat him at it today. He knows he’s flustered beyond belief and blushing from it right now too – they both do – and he has no intention of hiding it whatsoever. The imaginary aim is to be as obvious as possible until the inevitable happens, at least to him, and it’s working.

They have each other exactly where they want, and Ilhoon’s never been any place sweeter.

 

 

 

 

 **[23:56] ilhoon:** i really do like him you know

 **[23:57] ilhoon:** it’s actually all that i think about now

 **[23:57] ilhoon:** it’s horrible

 **[23:58] ilhoon:** ok it isn’t but he’s so hot i could die

 **[00:00] minjoo:** that’s love for you

 **[00:00] ilhoon:** god

 **[00:01] ilhoon:** i like him so much i want to scream

 **[00:01] ilhoon:** but i can’t

 **[00:01] ilhoon:** we’re in the living room and he’s fallen asleep on me

 **[00:02] ilhoon:** literally on me and the tv is STILL ON i can’t turn it off

 **[00:03] minjoo:** how are you even alive right now

 

 

 

 

The bell lightly jingles as the door pushes open. Ilhoon finishes boxing some chocolate eclairs for a customer, confirms their purchase and wishes them a wonderful day like he’s supposed to, before finding Hyunsik walking towards the counter, his usual smile spreading across his face with each step closer. He always seems to catch him at the right time.

Ilhoon straightens his hat first, his apron next, conscious that Hyunsik likes how they look on him.

“Hey, Hoonie,” he gives him a nod.

“Hi, hyung,” Ilhoon says back, and he’s more glad to see him than he can even show on the outside. “Are you after anything?”

“Not today. I just felt like dropping by,” Hyunsik replies, taking a quick look around before continuing. “How has your morning been?”

“Quiet. You can probably tell,” Ilhoon reminds himself he’s on duty for a second, but there’s not a single customer in here anymore so there can’t be much harm in a little chat. “What about you?”

“Same, actually. Nothing is really going on,” Hyunsik stops to check his watch. “But I still have to get back,” he sighs to himself. “I’ve only got a short break. I’ll see you later.”

He leaves almost as soon as he’d arrived. Once he’s gone, the manager – a short, loud guy who looks older than he is and is never in a bitter mood – wanders over to Ilhoon.

“A friend of yours?” he asks out of nowhere, full of curiosity.

“I guess so,” Ilhoon shrugs because, when he thinks about it, he isn’t sure what he is to him. “We live together.”

“And he’s always visiting you here too?” he chuckles. “Is he in love with you or something, Ilhoon-ah?”

Ilhoon shrugs again, but that’s what he’s wishing for. He’s never had somebody feel that for him before and he’d like to experience it at least once, preferably with Hyunsik.

“Anyway,” his manager claps his hands together, and he always sounds so cheerful for no particular reason. “The fruit cakes at the front of the display case are expiring soon. If you’re up for removing them, you can take them home with you. Maybe your friend will like them?”

He probably would, Ilhoon realises in the couple of seconds he considers the offer, so he accepts it without hesitation.

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik comes home a little earlier than usual today. It’s still the late afternoon and it surprises Ilhoon when he casually waltzes in and drops his bag by the door. He takes his lunchbox out and brings it to the kitchen to empty, Ilhoon following from the living room. He sits himself on the counter behind Hyunsik and lets his legs dangle freely.

“You redyed your hair today?” Hyunsik takes a peek over his shoulder.

Ilhoon bites down on his bottom lip and tells him a lie to find out how he’ll respond, “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course I would,” he throws some used plastic wrap into the bin, then turns around. “It’s a bit darker. I really like it,” he smiles directly at Ilhoon, and if he had thought he wouldn’t return it, he’d be wrong. He smiles right back – no thoughts involved. “Did you get it done after work?”

“Yeah, my roots were getting long,” Ilhoon knocks his heels against the cupboard underneath him, and Hyunsik reaches for the refrigerator handle. “Oh, I brought home some cakes we didn’t manage to sell. They’re in there, if you want them.”

“For me?” he pulls open the door. “Thank you, Hoonie.”

“It’s nothing,” Ilhoon pinches the side of his own thigh as Hyunsik walks nearer. He stops in front of him, where there’s a convenient space between his knees. “Hyung.”

“What is it?” he looks upwards to Ilhoon, finds his eyes with his own, and all it does is make Ilhoon’s heart fall back in his chest.

“Are we...” he starts and he can’t even move. “I mean, how long are we going to keep—”

“Holding this off?” Hyunsik asks, and Ilhoon knows fine well what he means.

His hands shift, slowly like they aren’t supposed to rush into this, until they reach Ilhoon’s lap. They stay there when he leans up, and Ilhoon meets him halfway.

There’s an explosion inside of him – it’s warmth, excitement, his nerves running wild, so much that he’s shaking when he grabs at Hyunsik’s wrists, the sleeves of his shirt, and doesn’t want to let go. It’s feeling like he cannot breathe the entire time Hyunsik’s lips are pressed against his.

It’s, he supposes, love in a very pure sense – sweet and chaste.

Hyunsik pulls away first, because Ilhoon isn’t sure when to. While time has hardly passed at all, it felt like a lot longer to him, as if it had temporarily slowed down for the two of them. It’d be wonderful, he thinks to himself, if that could happen for real.

“Now,” Hyunsik pats the top of Ilhoon’s hand. “What should we have for dinner tonight?”

Ilhoon manages to reply, “Anything you want.”

They agree on fried rice, and Ilhoon cracks the eggs while Hyunsik chops the ham as they usually do. He gives Ilhoon a kiss on his cheek once he’s done, a small one to thank him, and Ilhoon still blushes when he feels his touch, even in the slightest.

He can only sit back on the counter and watch when Hyunsik turns on the stove, starts to fry the ingredients they prepared together, and afterwards it’s the first dinner and rest of the evening with their feelings out in the open.

As if the two of them weren’t already aware.

Hyunsik doesn’t ask Ilhoon out while they watch another movie, ask him to be his anything in particular, but he doesn’t have to. The thing is, he doesn’t _need_ to. He says ‘I love you’ to Ilhoon like he says ‘hello’, holds his hand like it’s a bad habit that he can’t seem to shake. (It’s not bad though, definitely not, and Ilhoon knows exactly what he means.)

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon heads for his room after Hyunsik tells him to sleep well, after they’ve brushed their teeth together in front of the bathroom basin and he’d accidentally splashed them both with water. Hyunsik didn’t mind though, not that he ever makes much of a fuss about anything. It made his t-shirt slightly see-through, and that was the worst of it.

Once Ilhoon’s taken off his hoodie and left it on his bed, he switches off the light and leaves again.

“Hyung,” he walks into Hyunsik’s room, without knocking beforehand, to find him repositioning his pillows. When he turns to him, Ilhoon wonders how he should ask this. “Tonight, could we, maybe, sleep—”

“Together,” Hyunsik helps him out. “Of course, you don’t have to ask,” he pulls back the covers, climbs in, and invites Ilhoon over to the empty space he’s left right by his side.

It’s already warm in here, and Hyunsik is hot when he wraps his arms around Ilhoon quite naturally, like it’s a basic instinct, as if he’s meant to do it as soon as he’s near enough. (And, again, this is hot in the temperature sense, but Ilhoon isn’t denying any other type. Don’t be mistaken.) Hyunsik feels kind of soft to him – their skin presses into each other as they get more comfortable, and Ilhoon’s head stays resting where Hyunsik’s neck and shoulder meet.

Of course, it’s even better than he had anticipated. His imagination could never compare to this, no matter how great he was at pretending Hyunsik was by his side.

 

 

 

 

After a certain point, most nights end up being spent in Hyunsik’s bed, so often that Ilhoon hasn’t touched his in what seems like a while. They say no bed compares to your own, but whoever said that has obviously never been in love with Im Hyunsik before. (Not that he’d want anyone else to be. Hyunsik is his, and he doesn’t share.)

It’s normal now – Ilhoon automatically climbs in with Hyunsik at the end of the day, no questions asked. He’s even getting used to the fact that Hyunsik generally prefers to sleep in a state of undress, but he was considerate enough to spare Ilhoon the first few nights. Clearly, he’s still as kind as ever.

Sometimes Hyunsik wakes up before Ilhoon, although it’s rare and mostly a surprise, and unless he has work he never does anything to wake him up too. (If he does have work, they’re both woken up by his alarm anyway, but to Ilhoon it’s worth it if it means sleeping together in the first place.) Hyunsik waits, stays perfectly stationary, until it happens on its own. And then he smiles at Ilhoon, while he’s still sleepy, and he’s always brighter than the actual sunlight coming through the gap left in the curtains.

“Good morning, Hoonie,” he says, and his voice is deep and raw when the day begins.

Ilhoon mumbles in response, rubs his eyes to help them fully open and, once they have, Hyunsik likes to press a kiss to the top of his head as a reminder that he loves him as much as the day before. (Those are Hyunsik’s words, not Ilhoon’s – he’s a romantic like that.)

“You remind me of a cat when you’re sleeping,” he pets Ilhoon’s hair as if he really is one. “Very cute.”

Ilhoon shifts in his arms, “You always say that.”

“And I always tell the truth.”

Ilhoon knows it isn’t a bad thing like he used to think. That’s one of Hyunsik’s talents, among many others, honestly. The more he calls him cute, the more okay it seems, because he’s never meant it in a negative way. He says it’s something he loves about him, and Ilhoon could be starting to as well.

“Is it too hot?” Hyunsik asks, slightly loosening his hold, but Ilhoon only moves closer. It’s enough for an answer.

That’s not all that’s new to them, of course.

Ilhoon is the one who loosens Hyunsik’s tie when he comes home from work now. He pulls him by it into a kiss to say _welcome back, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you_ , but he shows him the second he has the chance.

And Hyunsik repays him with endless affection. He calls him ‘baby’ when it’s just the two of them – only sometimes, because it makes Ilhoon blush and he reserves it for when the moment’s right – he phones him when he has breaks at work so he can hear his voice again.

When Ilhoon says, “Bring me an apple,” Hyunsik replies, “Give me a minute. I’ll cut it up for you.”

Truth be told, Ilhoon was shy about it all at first. He’s never been into telling people that he loves them, even his own family, because he’s always liked a more subtle approach. He prefers less forward methods to express how he feels. There was that, and how he had asked Hyunsik if they could take the physical aspect slowly, a step at a time, if that would be fine. (He’s not used to this, but he’d like to be.) And he said it would and didn’t nosy into the matter one bit.

Hyunsik’s ideal like that. He doesn’t dig into things that he has the opportunity to right in front of him. He doesn’t ask for explanations, and Ilhoon doesn’t like to provide them, so it works out pretty well.

Actually, this whole thing has. It’s turned out to be way more than either of them had probably ever expected at first which, for Ilhoon, was not much – he never lets himself get his hopes up for nothing because he knows better than that, but Hyunsik’s far from it. (Rather, he’s everything.) Ilhoon figures he should call Minjoo and at least thank her like he’s completely forgotten to while being so caught up in this. She’s technically responsible, after all.

(He texts her instead, and she replies within seconds – just a big, grey speech bubble filled with exclamation marks and capital letters to let him know the sheer volume of her excitement over her baby brother falling in love.)

 

 

 

 

It’s early in the evening and it’s still light outside as summer approaches its end. The song playing in the kitchen today is ‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life’, now a firm favourite to Ilhoon, but that’s only because Hyunsik sings it to him in the bathroom every morning. It makes it difficult to get the shaving cream on his face for him, although Ilhoon never complains. Hearing his voice makes up for it each time.

Hyunsik’s reading the instructions on the back of a pizza box right now, a different brand from usual because it was on sale, and Ilhoon’s got his back resting on the counter across from him. He watches when there’s nothing for him to do – waiting over in the living room just isn’t as appealing to him.

When Hyunsik finishes and looks up, he starts, “I’ve actually been thinking,” he sets the box aside and takes a step towards Ilhoon. “That I’d like to take you out for dinner this weekend.”

“Really?” Ilhoon perks up.

“Yes. If you want to go, I mean.”

“I do,” he nods his head.

And Hyunsik smiles, “Then, let’s make it Saturday. There’s a place I’ve been told to try, but I didn’t have anyone to go with until now.”

He may not have meant it like that, but what Ilhoon takes away is that Hyunsik’s been saving it for him. Ilhoon’s got a few things he’s been saving for Hyunsik too, if he’d be interested in them. He’ll see in time, because they’re in no hurry.

 

 

 

 

It’s Saturday and the sun still has yet to fully set. Hyunsik’s driving – he’s wearing an expensive-looking watch on his wrist and a crisp, white shirt like he does for work – he looks so good tonight, it’s a challenge not to stare. When he spots the restaurant, he pulls up in an empty space a few buildings ahead. He turns to Ilhoon afterwards, and asks if he’s feeling alright in case he isn’t before they get out.

Inside, it’s probably darker than it was outside. The lights are warm and low, there’s a spherical candle sitting on the table and Hyunsik opposite Ilhoon. It’s strange that he can sense it, but there’s romance in the air, no doubt about it.

“Ilhoon,” Hyunsik calls out and it seems unusual to hear him use his real name now when it’s always _Hoonie this_ , and _Hoonie that_. Ilhoon looks up from his menu to Hyunsik, head in his hands, smiling. “Sorry, I just wanted to see your face for a second.”

They request two orders of steak, medium-rare, the speciality here and it’s pricey – they know that – but it’s okay for one night. It’s a date, after all. Working so hard every week means it’s only fair, Hyunsik supposes, and a little change never hurt the two of them. (Besides, that’s how they ended up like this in the first place.)

And it’s nice. Ilhoon can’t deny that it is when they clink their glasses together and he feels so grown up, when he sips his wine and he scrunches his nose because it’s bitter against his tongue. It’s not better or worse than staying at home though, and there’s something kind of wonderful about that, if he’s not getting carried away. He has a feeling that Hyunsik thinks the same as he watches him from across the table.

The best part of the night is how they’re surrounded by so many people, and Hyunsik still looks at Ilhoon like he’s the only person he can see in the world, as if he’s never been this enamoured by anybody in his entire life, and he’d stop time to tell the universe about it if he was lucky enough to be given the chance. His gaze remains fixed on him from start to end, and it doesn’t disappear until they’re back in the car and he’s sitting behind the wheel again. He puts it into drive and lets the radio play an old song they sometimes sing together as he takes them home.

(Their rendition is far superior, but mostly because of Hyunsik. Their voices don’t mesh that well, Ilhoon admits, but it’s theirs and that’s enough for him. Anything with the two of them is.)

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Hyunsik completely sleeps through his alarm and doesn’t even stir in the slightest at the sound of it, but Ilhoon always does and has to be the one to turn it off for him. He gives Hyunsik a light shove at first to find out if that’s enough this morning – it rarely is – then pushes against his chest so he’ll roll onto his back, still unaffected by his surroundings.

“Hyung,” Ilhoon takes the side of his arm and slowly shakes him until he shows some sign of life. “Wake up, you’ll be late.”

Hyunsik groans a bit, and mumbles afterwards although his words are hardly decipherable. Ilhoon tries again, and all he gets in return is an arm draping across both of his own arms as well as his waist, pulling him back down onto the mattress again and suddenly he’s trapped there.

“ _Hyung_ ,” he repeats, but Hyunsik only shifts himself so that he’s partially laid on top of Ilhoon now and they can feel each other breathe.

“It’s Saturday, Hoonie,” he says, sleepily and right by his ear. “But thank you for looking out for me,” he presses his nose into the side of his neck, and smiles against his skin like he’s never been happier being anywhere or doing anything else. “You’re the best, and I’m so lucky.”

Ilhoon doesn’t necessarily agree. No, he thinks it’s the other way round, actually, but if that’s how it is to Hyunsik, then he’s right to him, and Ilhoon is right to himself. He doesn’t believe he can compare to the kind of person Hyunsik is, but he supposes there’s perhaps a possibility that Hyunsik can see something in him that he can’t. Maybe, he thinks, that is how love tends to work, but he’s still figuring it out after all.

 

 

 

 

By the time September has rolled around and classes all over the city are starting again, Ilhoon begins his final year of university. He gets back into the routine of waking up at the same time as Hyunsik and actually getting out of bed, rather than being left there to sleep for another few hours (although it takes way too much effort to even think about early mornings). It’s not so bad though – Ilhoon likes to make tea while Hyunsik’s still in the bathroom. It isn’t that he’s particularly amazing at it, or that he wants to drink it, but that Hyunsik’s predictable when he does this and he knows it.

The formula is quite foolproof, really – Ilhoon stands there, mindlessly stirring, with his back to the bathroom door until Hyunsik wanders out, straight towards him because that’s how he is. Then, right on cue, he always hugs Ilhoon from behind without fail.

Ilhoon breathes in as he holds him a little bit tighter, and Hyunsik breathes out against his neck.

He tells Ilhoon, “I love you,” as if saying it any louder would let somebody other than him hear, and it’s only meant for him so he can’t risk it in the slightest.

They leave the apartment just before it’ll be too late for the two of them to both be on time. Hyunsik pulls up where he normally does to let Ilhoon out, encourages him to do his best as usual, and thinks he may be able to get home early tonight, but he’ll have to see.

“You seem very cheerful lately,” a classmate – a tall boy who talks to Ilhoon every now and again – says when he arrives outside of the lecture theatre. “What’s the secret?”

He stares at him, “What?”

“To smiling like that,” he clarifies.

Ilhoon shrugs because he doesn’t need to know, and that’s somehow the end of it.

 

 

 

 

“It’s your birthday next week,” Hyunsik reminds Ilhoon while he’s laying his head across his lap and it’s so comfortable. He rolls onto his back so he can see Hyunsik’s face, and nods that it is. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“I don’t think so,” Ilhoon replies, not bothering to sit up despite considering it for a moment.

“Hmm, what do you want to do?”

“I just... I just want to be with you, I think,” he lowers his gaze as he feels himself blush at his own words. Hyunsik’s turned his heart all soft, and he’s fine with that, really. The only thing he’d change is how he has to burn up like this every time, make it obvious that he’s feeling it so much it has to show on his face.

“Okay,” Hyunsik simply links his fingers with Ilhoon’s and accepts his answer.

The drama credits roll and Ilhoon reaches for the remote control on the coffee table to turn them off midway. He gets up.

“Hyung, do you want to shower yet?” he asks, and Hyunsik says he does and follows Ilhoon into the bathroom.

They let the water run first so it can heat up. Hyunsik takes cold showers on his own, Ilhoon likes hot, but together they meet in the middle and have it warm. That’s a kind of love, he supposes, and it’s not unique by any means – he doesn’t pretend that it is – but it’s there. The little everyday gestures like that – Ilhoon realises that they all somehow imply ‘I love you’, no matter how small, even if they’re difficult to notice and they slip past him at first.

He allows himself to be sentimental when it’s in his head and no one else can hear. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

 

 

 

 

The floorboards creak and the headboard repeatedly slams against the wall, echoes around the room to the sound of heavy breathing. Hyunsik takes Ilhoon’s virginity before he turns twenty-one, and he’s gentle about it to start with, like he’s afraid that the slightest bit more than a light touch, a slow shift will hurt him.

But Ilhoon doesn’t always want that, especially when he’s settled into it. He doesn’t always want _soft_ and _kind_ Hyunsik – he wants him to show him how much he wants him, and how much he always has and has kept locked up until now.

Of course, anything Ilhoon would like and Hyunsik has the power to give him, he gets.

Hyunsik kisses him like he’s got a hunger burning in his stomach and Ilhoon’s the only taste he’s after. He hoists him up by the hips and pushes him further, and further yet, until there’s nothing else Ilhoon can do but cry out for him, as if he isn’t right there.

And Hyunsik tells him he loves him once it’s over. He holds him close so that he knows he means it – all three words falling onto his skin and they burn.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon’s birthday falls on a Friday and he skips class because he can, and Hyunsik calls in sick because he feels like it. He coughs when he’s asked what’s wrong, and Ilhoon listens in with his head resting on Hyunsik’s bare chest, cozies up to him as soon as he hangs up. They fall asleep again after that.

The afternoon is beginning when they wake up for the second time, but there’s definitely no hurry to get out of bed straight away.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Hyunsik kisses Ilhoon on the cheek. He’s considerate enough to avoid exchanging morning (or afternoon) breath, as much as they both know they want to use their mouths. “I want to take you shopping after lunch. Maybe we could get that jacket you were telling me about?”

“Hyung,” Ilhoon smiles to himself. He reaches up and fixes Hyunsik’s hair for him. “We don’t have to.”

“It’s up to you, but I’d really like to if you do too. Let me treat you today,” Hyunsik takes his hand and holds it in his, warms it up and keeps it safe.

“Okay,” Ilhoon easily agrees.

He kisses Hyunsik afterwards, morning breath and everything because it slips his mind completely and a thank you is more important. They stay there for another quarter of an hour until it’s about time they got up.

Hyunsik brings Ilhoon to a café in a quieter part of the city for lunch. They drink fruit smoothies and share pasta to the sweet acoustic music playing through the speakers – covers of popular songs turned into a soft soundtrack that could warm anybody’s heart. When they pay, there’s a display case filled with cakes by the cash register. Hyunsik asks Ilhoon to pick his favourite, one with strawberries and cream, and they take it with them in a box.

Ilhoon brings Hyunsik to the store he last saw the jacket. They find it where he remembers and new colours have been released since then. He’s most drawn to the green one, and picks up the hanger so he can hold it over his chest and ask Hyunsik what he thinks about it.

“It really suits you,” he nods. He’s smiling widely and somehow it makes Ilhoon feel ecstatic inside. “Is there anything else that you want?”

“No, that’s already expensive,” he feels his face flush next, a slight guilt coming over him as he reminds himself of the price tag. “Maybe... maybe you could get something for yourself?”

“Hmm,” Hyunsik scans the store for a moment, then brings his eyes back to Ilhoon. “What do you suggest?”

“I think...” he starts, because everything here would look great if Hyunsik was wearing it, honestly. He gets an idea though. “If you like the jacket, you could get a different colour? I think the navy one would suit you.”

“Really?” he searches the rack to find his size and pulls it out. “I’ll try it on.”

And Ilhoon was right, in his opinion, which is the only one that matters besides Hyunsik’s anyway. He likes it just as much too, and he takes both jackets to pay for them without a complaint.

“I didn’t think that you’d actually get it,” Ilhoon says when Hyunsik shuts the door on the driver's side.

“It’s nice and you said you liked it on me,” he turns to Ilhoon. “That’s a pretty good reason.”

He isn’t certain that it is anymore when that guilt is still lingering in his mind, and he lowers his head a little, “I just feel kind of bad about it now, I guess.”

Hyunsik leans in closer and asks, confused, “Does it not suit me?”

“No—it’s not that—”

“Ilhoon, tell me what you mean.”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m with you because you can get me things that I want and come running whenever I need something,” Ilhoon frowns as his mouth dries up on the inside. “I really love you, you know.”

“I know that,” Hyunsik reaches for his shoulder and lets his fingers press into his sweatshirt. It makes Ilhoon shiver, the way he holds onto him like that. “Ilhoon, I do it all because I love you too, so don’t ever worry about it. Actually, could I tell you a secret?” he asks and Ilhoon nods. “I’ve never felt that anything between us wasn’t real.”

There’s a pause as it sinks in, then Ilhoon lets out a quiet laugh to himself and looks back over to Hyunsik, “I love you so much.”

“I feel the exact same way,” Hyunsik waits until Ilhoon’s definitely okay and he’s certain about it before starting the engine. It’s strange that he can even tell, because people rarely do or care to, but Ilhoon wouldn’t change it. “Now, let’s go home. I’m going to order in some takeout for us and we still have a cake to eat later.”

 

 

 

 

“Thanks for coming in this afternoon, Ilhoon,” his manager says while he’s tying his apron. “I thought Donggeun would’ve gotten better by now, but it seems like the bug is pretty terrible.”

“It’s no problem,” Ilhoon replies, reaching for his hat next.

“By the way, your friend dropped something off for you a bit earlier,” he points to the side. “He asked me to make sure that you get it.”

“Oh? Thanks,” Ilhoon wanders over to take a closer look.

It’s a cinema ticket for a showing after five. It’s for the film they were talking about last night after the commercial came on, a semi-autobiographical romance starting from high school. Although Ilhoon’s usually picky about watching things like that, it caught his interest in one way or another.

There’s also a packet of candy hearts and he quickly eats one before starting work. The words imprinted in it read, ‘YOU & ME’.

Ilhoon leaves to meet Hyunsik after his manager tells him to enjoy it, gives him a wink and finger gun, and Ilhoon doesn’t even have it in him to respond with so much as an eye roll when he’s feeling this content on the inside. He wears his jacket over his uniform and buttons it all the way up so that it hides the logo on his polo shirt.

He arrives before Hyunsik, but it doesn’t take long for him to get there too. They have their tickets checked and head for the right screen.

Once the lights have dimmed, it’s easy for Hyunsik to hold Ilhoon’s hand tight, in the dark where nobody else can see and they stop caring about what doesn’t concern them. It’s lovely, wonderful in fact, being this free to do whatever they feel like. Ilhoon wishes it could always be like this.

And they’re the last two remaining by the time the lights come back on. Ilhoon wipes his face with the fingertips of his free hand, and it’s not because he’s touched by the ending, of course. (Yes, it’s embarrassing, but it’s okay if only Hyunsik sees.)

“I wish I had known you when we were in school,” Ilhoon says as they’re walking to the car. His shoulder presses into Hyunsik’s – the closest they can get at the moment – and it’s getting dark outside too.

“Do you?” he asks.

“Yeah, then we would have known each other for longer. I’ll never know what you were like when you were younger.”

“I think we met at the right time,” Hyunsik drapes his arm over his shoulder. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wondering about that, but I think what matters the most is that we’re together now. Would you have liked me when I was a kid?” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Besides, the rest of our lives is a long time, if you want to spend yours with me.”

He does, if it’s even possible. It’s the one thing he wants more than he’d ever allow himself to admit out loud because they say, realistically, it’s unlikely to be with anybody forever. He thought so too.

But Ilhoon’s optimistic for a pessimist. If something happens, it’ll happen, but for now there’s no need to worry when Hyunsik’s walking by his side and he still loves him the most.

(Ilhoon remembers the candy in his pocket, and offers one to Hyunsik. He takes it and it says, ‘ALL YOURS’.)

 

 

 

 

On some evenings, on the odd occasion, fire burns inside of the apartment the second Hyunsik comes home. He pushes Ilhoon against the wall by the front door, electricity running through their veins, and he kisses him right there, has him dig into his shoulders through his shirt so eagerly that if his nails were any sharper they’d tear it.

Hyunsik whispers, “I’ve missed you,” on his lips, and, “so much,” on his neck. He lifts him up and carries him to the bedroom before a single thought about dinner has even passed their minds.

Ilhoon sucks Hyunsik off like he’s being graded for it, and Hyunsik fucks Ilhoon into the mattress like it’s the last time they’ll see each other until next year, makes him groan when he goes about it slowly, whimper when he’s fast. His hips slap into the back of Ilhoon’s thighs and the sound is louder than it needs to be. More than this, Hyunsik likes it when he can see Ilhoon’s face, how flushed his cheeks are when he’s not trying to cover them, rather than it being buried into a pillow. He turns him over and takes a good look at him first.

Hyunsik’s framed by light, the one hanging from the ceiling behind him, and when Ilhoon dares to stare back, the sight of him makes his breath hitch. He glows, so wondrously, and he’s everything.

They only continue after Hyunsik’s pushed back Ilhoon’s hair and given him a kiss like he always does, just to ease him into what’s next. It’s a temporary calm before they get right into it again.

“H- _hyung_ —you—you love me, don’t you?” Ilhoon breathes out and he wants to hear Hyunsik say it again.

“ _Yes_ —I do—I love you so much—”

“And I—I’m yours, right?” Ilhoon clings onto him tighter, his words sugar sweet.

“Yes—yes, you’re all mine—”

Ilhoon shuts his eyes as Hyunsik comes inside of him, as his entire weight rests on top of him and he’s heavy, but he isn’t uncomfortable and he doesn’t actually mind. But Hyunsik does, and he rolls onto his side once he’s regained some kind of composure. He hugs Ilhoon close to his chest, and he’s so warm he could melt in his arms.

 

 

 

 

“Oh, okay. Bye, mom— _yes_ —right, enjoy yourselves while you’re there,” Ilhoon tries to hang up as he sits back down on the couch. “Hm? Yeah, I’ll be fine. Bye.”

Hyunsik walks out of the bathroom after shaving and straight to Ilhoon’s side. He rests his head on his shoulder when he sits with him – the ends of his hair gently prickle his neck, and he smells like a fresh spritz of cologne.

“My parents are going on vacation over Christmas,” Ilhoon says, dropping his phone onto the coffee table. “Um, are you visiting yours?”

“I usually do,” Hyunsik replies without lifting his head. “Do you want to come to my house with me, Hoonie?”

“Oh—no—that isn’t what I meant—”

“It’s alright. My parents won’t mind,” he assures him. “Since my brother got married, it’s only been me.”

Ilhoon tugs at the hem of his sweater, “If you’re sure about this, hyung.”

“I am,” Hyunsik pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. He starts scrolling through his contacts. “I’ll let them know.”

It turns out that they really don’t mind. Actually, they’d be delighted to celebrate Christmas as four again and they always cook far more than they can all eat anyway. They say they can get there at any time during the afternoon and, if they want to, they can stay the night and they don’t have to leave until the next day.

Their plans are sorted as easily as that.

 

 

 

 

 **[11:16] minjoo:** you’re spending xmas at hyunsik’s house?

 **[11:16] minjoo:** wow... i’m impressed

 **[11:17] minjoo:** be good to his parents ok? i’m being serious

 **[11:18] ilhoon:** idk what you’re talking about? parents always love me?

 **[11:18] minjoo:** right

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik locks the front door when they’re ready to leave, hoists up the bag containing all of his essentials on his shoulder, and then he turns to Ilhoon, “Have you ever been to Ilsan before?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

“Then maybe we can visit again when it’s not as hectic.”

The drive to his parents’s house is the longest they’ve shared yet, but not long enough to sleep through it. Ilhoon watches Hyunsik at first, as usual, until the buildings become unfamiliar and he stares at them out of the window instead.

They eventually pull into a drive beside a two-storey house, and Hyunsik doesn’t get out after turning off the engine.

“Hoonie,” he says. “I haven’t told them about us, in case you don’t want me to,” he pulls out the key. “I mean, they are pretty open, but I’ll only tell them if it’s fine with you.”

“Okay,” Ilhoon smiles at him despite knowing better than he does most things that this is the type of person that he is. “Thank you.”

Hyunsik rings the doorbell and they wait until they can see silhouettes behind the frosted glass. Ilhoon suddenly grows nervous, but as soon as it opens it seems like there’s not much to be anxious about after all.

Hyunsik’s parents are kind, but he doesn’t quite see the resemblance other than that. While they exchange their Christmas greetings with Hyunsik, he doesn’t feel too left out, because they also give him their well wishes and he thinks they mean them. He hastily pulls his scarf down from his face to expose a polite smile and bows to them both.

“Mom, Dad, this is Ilhoon,” Hyunsik officially introduces him once they’ve stepped inside and escaped the cold. “I told you that his parents are on vacation, didn’t I?”

“Ah, yes, I remember,” his mom nods. “I’m glad that we finally get to meet you, especially if it means that you don’t have to be alone today,” she continues and it makes Ilhoon light up. It makes him think that this truly was the best option. “Come in, please, make yourself at home. Dinner should be ready by six? I hope you can wait until then.”

To kill time, Hyunsik shows him around. He takes him to the kitchen only briefly since it’s where all of the action is taking place right now, the dining room for a bit longer and there are four placemats already set up on the table. Afterwards, it’s upstairs – just the bathroom and then Hyunsik’s room though. There’s a makeshift bed next to the actual one that’s only a single, but Hyunsik insists they should be able to fit in it together – Ilhoon doesn’t take up much space. On the walls are posters of musicians, some peeling at the corners, and there’s a Mickey Mouse lamp on the desk.

For a moment, Ilhoon wonders what it would’ve been like to have slept over here as a child, but as he thinks about it he realises that perhaps it wouldn’t have been too different to tonight. They might have played video games and stayed up all night sharing secrets, but Ilhoon’s never been a huge fan of them (because he’s not particularly superb at them, you see) and he already knows most of Hyunsik’s so there’s little left to tell. Maybe it’ll be as if he’s never missed out, that none of this recurrent imagining what things could have been matters, and never has. He could call everything from meeting Hyunsik onwards ‘making up for lost time’, but he realises it isn’t about that at all. There’s no lost time – there’s only plenty of it left to spend together.

They leave their bags on the floor for later, and return downstairs.

Over dinner, Hyunsik’s parents have catching up to do and plenty of questions to ask. It’s not unpleasant though – Ilhoon doesn’t mind revealing details of their daily lives, and recalling them only makes him happy. That’s certainly not bad.

“So, Ilhoon, you’re in university, aren’t you?” Hyunsik’s dad asks from across the table.

Ilhoon puts down his fork and swallows first to be polite, “Yes, I study literature.”

“Hoonie’s really smart,” Hyunsik adds. “He’s always reading.”

(Which is a lie, because all they do is watch movies and dramas together now and the last book he picked up for his own pleasure was _Le Papillon des étoiles_ which he still hasn’t finished, but if it makes him seem like a better potential son-in-law, that’s cool with him. He does the bare minimum to get by in his classes because, while he hates studying, he hates failing even more, but they don’t need to know that.)

“Oh, is that so, Hoonie?” his mom asks, calls him that so naturally, and Ilhoon feels himself begin to blush at the sound of it. “Our Hyunsik has never been keen on reading.”

When the table’s looking empty and Ilhoon doesn’t think he could possibly eat another bite, they watch one of those Christmas films made for families in the living room. It’s funny, the ending is cute, and this is probably the nicest way they could have spent the rest of the evening as four. (If it was as two, Ilhoon would’ve had other ideas.)

Hyunsik lets him shower first and waits for him to finish in his room. It seems kind of odd from the second Ilhoon steps inside, and not because it’s different to the one at home. Maybe not always in the morning, but they always shower together at night and he misses the way Hyunsik stands close to him and helps him when he can’t see, even if it’s only one day.

He sits on Hyunsik’s bed when it’s his turn and he says he won’t be long.

And he isn’t. He shuts the door behind him when he comes back and sits with Ilhoon, in front of him and cross-legged like he is too.

“It seems that Mom and Dad really like you,” he grins. “Perhaps even more than they like me.”

He lets out a gentle laugh, and so does Ilhoon but quieter, just slightly, because he wants to believe him, like he does with everything he says. Then he takes the towel from Hyunsik’s hands and drapes it over his head, dries his hair for him, and Hyunsik reaches out to him in return.

His fingers travel to his waist, but that’s not where they truly want to be. They creep downwards towards his hips, his touch has Ilhoon freeze as it continues, and when they arrive at their intended destination, they pull him up onto his lap.

“ _Hyung_ —” he whispers in case the walls are thin. He drops the towel behind Hyunsik as he wraps his arms around him.

“Hm?”

Hyunsik doesn’t say another word. He leans in and the conversation is over.

Whenever they get round to going to sleep, they could be spooning, but Ilhoon doesn’t like it and never has. What he likes is Hyunsik holding him, and being able to hold him too. That’s what they do, and the bed on the floor stays empty for the entire night like it should.

 

 

 

 

It’s the first night back at home again. Hyunsik’s making hot chocolate in the kitchen, and Ilhoon’s been thinking since they got in the car that afternoon. He grabs the remote control and lowers the volume when Hyunsik returns to the living room and sits down.

“Hyung,” he turns to him. “You can tell your parents, if you want to.”

Hyunsik finishes taking a sip, and offers Ilhoon the mug, “Tell them?”

“About me and you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Ilhoon nods at him, his fingernails tapping against the sides of the cup and it’s the only thing he can hear for a moment. “I don’t know if they’ll be disappointed or whatever, but you can tell them.”

“I won’t let them be. I promise.”

Ilhoon nods again, but he’s nervous in the pit of his stomach. If it does go well, he’ll call his own parents once they’re back in Seoul, but if not, he doesn’t even know.

He supposes they like him, of course they do, he was as polite as he’d been taught to be and they’d treated him nicer than he could have asked for. There’s obviously a big difference between being introduced as, what they’d assumed was, a friend and a boyfriend though. Who knows if they’ll still like him then.

(Hyunsik calls them the next evening, after work, and Ilhoon starts to boil the water for their udon so that he can’t hear the conversation as clearly. He listens to the flames crackle under the pot, watches as they flick against it – anything to distract him for now.

And his chest tightens when he notices Hyunsik walking over and his phone slipping into his pocket.

But a smile appears on his face as he comes nearer – somehow one always does – and he mouths at Ilhoon, “It’s okay,” he holds his arms wide open. “It’s all okay.”

 _Good_.

Ilhoon breathes out with relief as Hyunsik pulls him close. He presses his face into his shoulder, buries it into his sweater, and he’s so glad that it’s Hyunsik above everything. He’s never been particularly lucky, but he sure seems it now. The way Hyunsik holds him feels like he never wants to let anybody else hold him like this again in his life.

And, truth be told, he’d be more than fine with that.)

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon finally finishes that book and a tub of vanilla ice cream during an afternoon when there’s nothing to do. Class was cancelled this morning and Hyunsik’s still got hours yet until he comes home, so it’s just Ilhoon and the cookery show he’s not exactly watching at the moment. He’s wearing one of Hyunsik’s hoodies, a large grey one, as he lies sideways on the couch, and he could be falling asleep in it as the clock reaches another hour.

His phone buzzes from the coffee table before he has the chance to doze off though, and he checks it to find Hyunsik’s contact name on the screen. (For the record, it’s ‘♡♥︎HYUNG♥︎♡’.)

He’s sent Ilhoon, _i have to stay late tonight :-( i’m sorry_ , and Ilhoon sends back, _it’s okay ^_^_. He waits for his reply before locking his phone again, and when it comes it’s, _love u ♡_.

Ilhoon takes a nap after that, just on the couch so he doesn’t have to go anywhere, and maybe by the time he wakes up it’ll be in the middle of the evening and he can start dinner for the two of them. Hyunsik usually isn’t back until after seven when he’s needed for longer at work, he supposes, and that’s still a while away from now.

Time seems to pass by strangely when Ilhoon dreams. He’s lived entire days and weeks before. There are houses around him, trees lining the streets, and he can even smell the crisp January air. It nips at his skin, it takes a moment for him to realise, like it does to notice that he’s shorter too. He turns the corner and arrives at another street in the neighbourhood, but this time it seems vaguely familiar as he starts to walk along it.

It’s the one Hyunsik grew up on, he suddenly remembers. His house is someplace further down, perhaps on the left, if his memory is correct.

Perhaps the one where he can spot a boy standing outside.

Ilhoon calls out, “Hyung?” like he can’t help it, as if he’s forgotten they had never met each other before last year, and he wakes up before he can even see his face.

There’s a blanket laid over him and it’s keeping him warm. He’s still on the couch, unmoved, but the lights are now dim and Hyunsik’s sitting on the end.

“Were you dreaming?” he asks, his voice soft and quiet. “You called out for me just then.”

“Yes,” Ilhoon nods.

“It wasn’t a bad dream, was it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Ilhoon guesses. “For some reason I was in your neighbourhood, I think, and I saw you so I wanted you to notice me.”

“I was there?”

Ilhoon nods again, “We were kids. I woke up before you could turn around, though, but I knew it was you.”

“How odd,” Hyunsik folds his arms and furrows his eyebrows. “I wonder if it means anything.”

It could but, at the end of the day, dreams are only dreams. While it’d be nice to experience an alternate childhood in which Hyunsik is there and they can play and grow up together, Ilhoon doesn’t need it. Or even want it anymore, whether that’s in reality or a dream world. He’s happy where he is and with what he has.

He’s sure of that.

“Oh, I’ve already started the rice cooker,” Hyunsik takes his hand and stands up. He looks over to the kitchen. “What else should we have tonight?”

 

 

 

 

Valentine’s Day conveniently falls on a Sunday this year. That means sleeping until the afternoon and continuing to lie there for another hour or so, of course – the most ideal way to spend a morning. Hyunsik reaches for Ilhoon’s hand as his first act of affection of the day, brings it up with care as if he has to when he doesn’t, and presses a tiny kiss to the back of it. There’s another nearer the bumps of his knuckles, and Hyunsik’s still the most tender person Ilhoon’s ever known. He has a nagging feeling that he always will be.

The plans for the day are rather simple. Last night, Hyunsik had asked if Ilhoon would like to have dinner somewhere downtown, but he opted for staying indoors. It’s far too busy on holidays like this, and not even worth it when there’s no place else that they can laze around and do what they like best. In other words, kiss a little (a lot), and order in some black bean noodles.

“You know,” Ilhoon nudges Hyunsik because they’re eating in the living room tonight. “I’ve always thought that Valentine’s Day was just like any other day.”

Hyunsik puts down his chopsticks and swallows first, “Oh?”

“I still think that now,” he says, but not in a negative sense. “I mean, I love you the same every single day.”

“Mm, I see what you’re getting at,” Hyunsik nods. “I think that you’re right.”

“Yeah?” Ilhoon stares at him and he knows that he doesn’t think he’s talking nonsense. It’s not a surprise though – he never has. “You’re the first person I’ve ever spent Valentine’s Day with, so that’s why it was always an ordinary day to me, but now it’s because,” he pauses and he’s suddenly shy again, like he sometimes still is and has never stopped being completely. “Because I already love you,” he lowers his eyes to the tub of noodles on his lap. “More than anything.”

When he dares to lift his gaze again, Hyunsik is smiling to himself, the way he does when he’s lighting up on the inside and can’t even speak yet.

“Hoonie,” he eventually tilts his head. “I remember that you couldn’t bring yourself to say, ‘I love you’ to me at first.”

“You told me to take my time,” Ilhoon clearly recalls.

“Yes,” Hyunsik agrees. “And now you tell me everything so freely. I’m not saying that it’d matter either way, but you just make me so happy.”

And that’s all that Ilhoon wants to do for him.

The rest of the night is as lovely as it could possibly be. They shower together sometime after dinner – Hyunsik shampoos Ilhoon’s hair, Ilhoon massages his back in return, and they kiss against the wall tiles as the water continues to pour over them. They don’t fuck tonight – they can do that tomorrow, no problem. They’re content enough with lying in bed again, because nothing is better than being in Hyunsik’s arms.

“Hyung,” Ilhoon breathes out against his chest. “Did you know that I actually used to feel embarrassed that I’d never dated anyone before?” he quietly laughs. “When relatives would ask me why I was still single and only my parents and sister knew the reason, I hated it.”

“What about now?” Hyunsik asks him. He pushes the hair from his eyes and looks into them.

“I’m glad now,” Ilhoon replies and he can’t stop himself from smiling about it. “Because I might not have had the opportunity to be with you, and could you imagine me without you?”

“Ice cream all day?” he jokes.

“Yes,” Ilhoon laughs out loud this time. “Exactly that.”

Hyunsik manages to turn out the lights on both sides of the bed although Ilhoon makes it harder for him. He hugs him tight in the dark, and all Ilhoon can feel is his undying warmth that somehow never fades, even in this winter.

Valentine’s Day’s never been anything special to Ilhoon. It’s just another out of the rest of the normal days he’s ever lived, but now it’s one with Hyunsik, and that’s much better than any of those, or a single day dedicated to love.

Ilhoon doesn’t want fancy dates or overpriced food, he doesn’t expect flashy gifts or much more than a night in the apartment and spending time together doing _anything_. (Nothing is fine with him, too, in fact.) Ilhoon likes Hyunsik, their home, all of this.

He likes staying here without being told he’s lazy, because university and work may not tire everybody out, but they sure take their toll on him.

And Hyunsik’s never called him that once.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon puts down his book as the lock in the front door clicks, and it’s so he can prepare himself to greet Hyunsik when he walks in. There’s no shame in letting him know that he’s been waiting – besides, he likes it, and Ilhoon can tell because he gives him a blindingly bright smile as soon as he sees him sitting in the living room.

He heads straight towards Ilhoon once he’s securely shut the door.

“Here, Hoonie,” he hands him a bag made out of card, the top tied together with a ribbon. It’s a bit hefty when Ilhoon takes it from him, so he sets it down on his lap. “A client gave me some chocolates as a thank you? I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Maybe so. Ilhoon goes ahead and unties the bow, pulls the bag wide open and explores its contents. There’s the box inside, of course, and a small card on top of it. He reads it even if it isn’t for him.

_Thank you so much for all of your help. If you ever have a little time to spare, maybe we could meet for something other than business?_

He snorts to himself and looks over to the kitchen where Hyunsik’s gone, “Uh, hyung, I don’t think this is just a thank you gift.”

“Hm?” he comes back to the living room again and reads the note too. His eyes widen as he continues. “Oh— _wow_ —I’m so sorry, I... I had no idea that she thought—”

“It’s okay, I believe you,” Ilhoon reaches for the box and starts to peel off the sticker sealing it together. If they have chocolates, he may as well eat them, even if the person who bought them is interested in Hyunsik like that. Somehow, in some horribly smug way, he actually finds it kind of satisfying. “I don’t think I’m in a position to blame anybody else for taking a liking to you, but I did beat everyone to it.”

Hyunsik tosses the card onto the coffee table and itches the back of his neck, “Maybe I could start wearing a ring so that people get the right idea.”

“You could, or a giant badge saying, ‘Sorry, I’m taken’,” Ilhoon starts to joke.

“Sorry, I’m taken by Jung Ilhoon, who I love very dearly, so please refrain from hitting on me.”

“But I will still accept your chocolates,” he adds, eating one straight after.

“I genuinely had no idea,” Hyunsik slouches and he seems to feel so bad about it.

“I know, hyung, I know,” Ilhoon laughs a bit to let him know that he really doesn’t care that much at all. Perhaps he did at some point in the past, but he realises there’s little to get worked up over when, at the end of the day, he’s the one who Hyunsik comes home to and he chose him rather than anybody else.

He offers Hyunsik a chocolate, even though they’re technically his, and lets the one in his mouth melt on his tongue.

“What are you reading?” Hyunsik asks while chewing.

“It’s called _Kitchen_ ,” Ilhoon pushes up his glasses from the tip of his nose. “I like it so far.”

“You should tell me about it when you’re done,” he suggests, and heads for their own kitchen so he can finish emptying his lunchbox.

Ilhoon likes reading, Hyunsik not so much, but he still asks to hear about the books Ilhoon reads in his own words because he likes _that_. It’s sweet, he thinks, because they don’t necessarily share the exact same interests – that’d be too perfect, although they do share plenty – but he involves himself in some way. In other words, he likes that Ilhoon likes what he likes, and how much he does.

He wanders back over while Ilhoon’s reading again, takes a seat next to him, and wraps an arm around the back of his waist.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Ilhoon keeps his finger in between the pages he’s on when he closes the book for a second time.

“Hm? I’m not stopping you,” Hyunsik replies and he’s using his fake serious voice.

And Ilhoon slides the book across the coffee table because he’s playing too. He turns to Hyunsik as calmly as possible, but all his face is trying to do is smile and it takes everything to bite down and stop it from happening. The second Hyunsik decides to grin at him, Ilhoon might just bite his entire bottom lip clean off.

“What?” his cheeks heat up.

“You look really good in your glasses,” Hyunsik shrugs, and his grip on the side of Ilhoon’s waist tightens.

“I know,” he replies swiftly. (That isn’t what was supposed to come out.) “I mean—no—you say that all the time.”

“Okay, you look beautiful in your glasses, then,” Hyunsik says without moving an inch away. If anything, he’s getting closer, although Ilhoon isn’t quite thinking straight at the moment and it could just be him.

Sweat begins to line his forehead, and he’s glad he has bangs to cover it up because nothing has even happened yet.

“Hoonie,” Hyunsik’s voice is low and muted, and Ilhoon swallows down hard at the sound of it. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

His glasses have fallen down his nose again, but Ilhoon can’t seem to move enough to push them up, like he’s temporarily been frozen into place. However, he can just about reply, “Then kiss me.”

Without stalling for much longer, Hyunsik follows through. He brings Ilhoon to him by the chin, guides him all the way there, and he kisses him how he knows he likes it – slowly but surely. His tongue still faintly tastes like dark chocolate, his hand’s made it to the side of Ilhoon’s face and his fingers in the back of his hair, tangling into it as he pulls him deeper.

“Open your mouth a bit more for me,” he requests.

And it’s clear that by ‘kiss’, Hyunsik didn’t mean only one. Or only kiss.

He has Ilhoon leave his glasses on when he gets on his knees, and he promises that he won’t mess them up. (Really.) In the moments when Ilhoon looks up and their eyes actually meet, Hyunsik tells him he’s the cutest, the best, that he’s right where he wants him to be, and— _shit_ —don’t stop.

Ilhoon wouldn’t be so cruel, of course. He even lets Hyunsik have him over the armrest afterwards, push his shirt past his waist, then on his back when they’re done with that and he can’t hide his face as his glasses slide upwards, then sitting on Hyunsik to finish off. Sweat clings to his skin as he clings to Hyunsik’s shoulders, and he’s thankful he can’t see himself right now when he’s certain his hair is a total mess.

But a mess like this is perfectly fine if Hyunsik’s the one responsible, because he’ll always tidy it up again.

He shifts a little bit more to help Ilhoon out, and it’s all over in a sudden hiccup at the back of Ilhoon’s throat and a kind of sweetness he’s only ever gotten from Hyunsik spilling inside.

“I’ve got you,” he hushes by his ear when he trembles, falls against his chest, and he can’t seem to hold back whatever sounds are trying to escape. He holds Ilhoon tighter and he knows he means it. “It’s okay, Ilhoon, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

 

 

 

 

The weather gradually gets better and the sun stays out for slightly longer by March. That’s if Ilhoon really tries to believe it, anyway, but it honestly seems very much the same as February so far. Maybe it’s lighter during the day or it rains less than before – he doesn’t have a clue.

What he does know, however, is that Hyunsik is turning twenty-four shortly and he wants to make an effort for him.

At work, he asks if it’s alright if he takes home a birthday cake and, although by store policy it should be deducted from his pay this month, his manager insists that he can have it for free. After all, Ilhoon’s always on time, he supposes, and he does try to laugh at his jokes too. (Not that Ilhoon actually finds him funny – don’t get him wrong – but he doesn’t fancy getting on his possible dark side he’s always mentioning.)

“Oh, who is it for?” he hovers around Ilhoon as he ices his message on with chocolate. “Your friend?”

“Mhm,” Ilhoon nods in response, but he’s too focused on getting this just right to make any real conversation.

“You know, Ilhoon-ah, he’s a very lucky guy,” he continues anyway. “I hope he knows that.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Ilhoon laughs. He finishes writing and he’s fully satisfied with his work, but it’s not quite complete. “Do we have any maraschino cherries left around here?”

After his shift, Ilhoon stops by the mall to pick up a gift. As much as Hyunsik adores music, things like CD’s and records are out of the question when he mostly uses his phone. He doesn’t have a player for either, except for his laptop and, besides, he already has all the albums he wants on there. He could perhaps buy him some more shirts, but it’d be like buying for himself at the same time when he’s constantly borrowing his clothes.

In the end, Ilhoon picks out a new black tie for him and gets asked for ID when he buys a bottle of champagne.

As he waits at home, Hyunsik’s manager somehow has the kindness to let him out early today. He pushes the front door open, and Ilhoon’s arms are wrapping around him before he can even lock it.

“Happy birthday, hyung,” he mumbles into his shoulder.

Hyunsik manages to kick the door shut after he stumbles forwards, and Ilhoon backwards, “Thank you, baby.”

He gives Hyunsik a kiss on the cheek first, then one on the mouth – a generous one as a reminder that he’s still very much in love with him. (Not that he needs it, but Ilhoon’s more than willing to offer him all that he can.)

“Let me empty your lunchbox today,” Ilhoon insists when Hyunsik pulls it out of his bag. He hands it to him without a fuss. “Um, could you wait in the living room for me? And don’t look.”

“I won’t,” he replies, and he does exactly as he’s asked.

Ilhoon rinses out his water bottle first, and leaves it on the rack beside the sink. He tips out the loose wrappers and apple core from one tub, and scrapes out the leftover rice from the other. After scrubbing them and the matching chopsticks, Ilhoon revisits the cake he left in the fridge and the candles in a drawer.

He turns off the living room lights on his way there, and he can’t make out Hyunsik’s face that well until he gets to him.

And, naturally, he’s smiling when he can. Maybe tearing up a little too because he’s just wiped one of his eyes, although Ilhoon still can’t tell for sure when it’s this dark. Hyunsik never cries at anything, but Ilhoon could be the one to make him, even if it’s not now.

He takes a short moment to read the message, and turns to Ilhoon once he’s done, “I love you too,” he leans in close. “Did you decorate this yourself?”

“Yes,” Ilhoon allows himself to blush. “Hyung, you should make a wish, don’t you think?”

“Mmm,” he nods. He breathes in to prepare himself, gives it a few seconds, and blows out the candles.

Now, Ilhoon would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t curious about Hyunsik’s wish, if he made one at all. However, he’s aware that if he knew, whatever it is wouldn’t come true, and if it happens to be _I want to be with Jung Ilhoon forever and ever_ , he doesn’t want to risk messing it up.

When the lights are back on again, Ilhoon presents the tie to Hyunsik (and he loves it, even if it looks just like the others he has), brings out the champagne and pops it open before they eat the cake.

“Did you get ID’d again?” Hyunsik asks when he takes a sip from his glass.

“Do you even need to ask?” Ilhoon sighs.

Looking younger than he actually is is more of a blessing than looking older though. When he turns thirty, perhaps he’ll look like he’s only turned twenty, and they could still be living here in this apartment exactly like this. Or he could be an award-winning writer by then, and they’ll have moved into a stylish penthouse somewhere else. Who knows, but he doesn’t mind either way.

“How do you want to spend tonight?” Ilhoon asks Hyunsik before scooping another forkful of cake into his mouth.

“Hmm, I want to have dinner with you, shower with you, sit around and watch TV with you, then go to sleep with you,” he lists. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect to me,” Ilhoon smiles at him. “Are you sure there’s nothing else that you want, though?”

“Nothing more than what you want,” Hyunsik shrugs back. “Is there something in particular that you have in mind?”

“Let’s just see how it goes,” Ilhoon nods before he starts to say too much.

So they do, and they do all of that and a little more. They make a joint effort to cook linguine with mussels and tomatoes, shower together in warm water afterwards, and finish off the champagne in the living room until it’s about time for bed. (Ilhoon imagines it’d be great if they had a bathtub so they could drink it while sitting in some bubbles instead – very glamorous – but it won’t be happening today. It gives him an idea though, that he could book a suite at a hotel next year and they can make this a reality.)

Hyunsik only wants to wear the tie Ilhoon bought for him now, unless there’s an important enough reason not to (that’s only when it needs a wash because he’s spilled something on it, really). Even Ilhoon can’t tell it apart from the other black ones he has, but Hyunsik insists that he can and it’s kind of funny. Maybe he could buy him a few more so he’ll have some variety – he considers it for a while. It’s heart-warming to Ilhoon, though, that Hyunsik loves him so much that he believes everything he touches is gold.

And Hyunsik doesn’t quite believe in locking things away and saving them until it’s too late. He makes the moves he wants to, and says the things he feels like – no holding back.

He’s forward with Ilhoon, and that was overwhelming at first but, at this point, he’s glad about it. He’d rather know what he’s thinking than nothing at all, and if that’s ‘I love you’ multiplied by a thousand, then he has no problem with hearing it. (Because, sometimes, or pretty often, he thinks that too.)

 

 

 

 

As the end of March approaches, it’s been a year since Hyunsik moved in. Maybe he doesn’t remember, but Ilhoon does rather clearly how he carried his boxes up from his car and he didn’t completely suck at cooking instant ramen which, even today, is a surprise when Hyunsik was watching him the entire time.

He was a shy, fumbling mess, but he still is every now and then. And there’s nothing wrong with that, he believes, because the butterflies and heart fluttering aren’t supposed to stop once he’s with the person causing them. He didn’t know it back then, but they’re supposed to continue, and continue for as long as they can.

Naturally, Hyunsik notices them too.

“You still blush when we’re together,” he says when he holds him, when it’s raining outside and safe inside, and it’s like their couch is the comfiest place on Earth. “I love that.”

“I still feel the same way. That’s why,” Ilhoon replies. “When we met, I never thought that you’d like me. Not one bit.”

“You didn’t?” he asks. “I feel like it was inevitable, for some reason.”

“It’s just that you’re _attractive_ and the sweetest person I’ve ever known. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. I thought that you’d be able to have anybody you wanted.”

“Well, whether that’s true or not, I wanted you,” Hyunsik hugs him tight and presses his cheek to his to confirm it.

And Ilhoon laughs because his hands tickle at his sides, “I know now— _hyung_ —I know!”

Ilhoon rarely questions himself on why Hyunsik likes him at all anymore. He truly does know the answer now – it’s because he’s Jung Ilhoon and nobody else. It seemed like an odd concept to grasp at first – there’s nothing he finds particularly _special_ about himself that sets him apart from the rest of the world’s population – but then he realised that, similarly, he likes Im Hyunsik because he’s Im Hyunsik. Anybody could give him a hug if they tried, or say things that are actually pretty cheesy without making them seem that way, but they wouldn’t be Hyunsik.

Sometimes, it’s really just that simple.

“My parents always nagged me about staying at home so much, you know,” Ilhoon lays his head on Hyunsik’s shoulder. “They’d ask me if I’d ever go out, if I enjoyed having such a boring life, and when I moved out my sister would encourage me to do whatever the other students do, but I wasn’t interested either.”

“Well, I’m not going to bother you,” he assures him. “Do you think your life is boring, Hoonie?” he asks.

“No, not at all,” he replies. “And what about you?”

“No,” Hyunsik says. He finds Ilhoon’s hand on his lap and threads his fingers between his, gives him a tiny squeeze that’s somehow full of love. “But if our lives are boring, then I hope to live a long and happy, boring life with you.”

Ilhoon allows a smile to burst across his face, and it’s the widest one he’s ever had, “So do I.”

From the kitchen to the living room, the bathroom to the bedroom that used to be Ilhoon’s – this is their apartment and it’s still where they like to be the most. And, no, it’s not perfect by any means. There’s no reason that it should be, though, when they have all that they need and they’re already as content as can be. Maybe they won’t be living here anymore in one, two, or three years, but Ilhoon feels as if it actually isn’t quite about the place. He doesn’t want a mansion, more than one storey, or a swimming pool, but he does want a certain somebody to be right there with him. They say that home is what you make it but, to him, it could be a person with a smile brighter than the sun named Im Hyunsik.

And, if he’s willing, Ilhoon would like it if he would be his home for the rest of his life.

 

 

 

 

(“I’m like the sun?” Hyunsik asks and he thinks about it first. “I think you are,” he looks across the table next, over his spaghetti as he twirls his fork into it. “And me, I guess I must be the moon who can’t seem to take its eyes from the sun because it’s so endlessly in love with it. When I’m with you, I feel alive.”)

**Author's Note:**

> some random trivia:  
> \- the song hyunsik first sang was supposed to be ‘all of me’ by john legend. ([why?](http://youtu.be/hFZ-xnXXc6M))  
> \- i chose _le papillon des étoiles_ because ilhoon read it [here](http://youtu.be/VCCUVQzLfWs).  
>  \- yes, ilhoon’s manager was eunkwang and his classmate was sungjae!  
> \- the movie they watched at the cinema was _那些年，我們一起追的女孩/you are the apple of my eye_. ([because!](http://www.weibo.com/5507898532/DbcQEbgEB))  
>  \- also, you can see them wearing those jackets right [here](http://youtu.be/x-uUsZMtYYE).


End file.
